Never Again
by SilverWolfFlight
Summary: The final curtain falls on Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty. Will John be left on his own? (I suck at summaries but this is somewhere along those lines) Johnlock
1. Chapter 1- The Final Curtain

**Never Again**

**Chapter one- The Final Curtain**

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**Hey guys! So this is my second fanfiction ever! And i'm uploading this because i lost a bet to a certain friend *cough* Katie *cough*. Anyways i hope you enjoy reading this and please leave a review especially if it destroys your soul (mwahahahahaha i'm so evil :) )**

**i should probably also mention there will be a second and final chapter i'm currently writing and i promise will be done by next week so get off my back *cough* KATIE *cough*.**

**Oh well. Enjoy. :)**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters (waaaaahhh)**

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"Don't you dare… Don't you dare you crazy bastard, you'll die!" John yelled.

But it was too late. Sherlock had hung up. His mind was set. This would end everything. With Moriarty finally gone, the threat of another war would be gone too. But the only way to make that happen would be to… No. It has to be done. It will be done.

John raced down the street. The idiot had punctured his tyres and Mary… No. This was between him and Sherlock. And it will stay that way.

_But it would bloody well help if I had a car._ John thought. But he continued to race on, ignoring the temptation to limp.

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Meanwhile…

A dark corridor. Two figures stood silently facing one another. Each at a different end of the long corridor. They were so distant they could each see only the other's outline. They stood there, like two black silent shadows.

Suddenly one of them shrieked with laughter. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It jeered while the other remained silent. Its shrieking laughter echoing down the corridor.

It shrieked again before running off up the stairs. The silent one followed in quick pursuit, the only sound being their footsteps as they got closer and closer to the rooftop.

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John had finally reached his destination. Panting heavily, he looked up. Towering above him was a five-storied abandoned office building in the center of London. From the rooftop, all of London would be in view.

One month ago, James Moriarty had hacked national television and made his comeback into this world. He had come back from the gates of Hell and clawed his way back to the top of the criminal underworld. While he was busy with that, John Watson had to put up with an insufferable Sherlock Holmes. For one month, Holmes had done nothing but run round 221B Baker Street, pausing randomly before shouting out an absurd solution to their even more absurd problem. Ever since that night when Moriarty exposed himself to the world once more, Sherlock had been following this routine. He was worried, John could see that. He didn't know what to do, and he made sure everyone could hear that. John had come in one morning to find Holmes banging pots and pans together. Apparently he was trying to drown out an incessant noise which seemed to be all in his head. But all that was irrelevant now.

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John stood there looking round frantically for some sign Sherlock was here. That he was alive. That he hadn't done something crazy. But then he saw him, then he screamed, and then came a loud thump shortly followed by another…

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The two figures, with nowhere left to go, had stood facing each other once more on the rooftop of the abandoned building.

The figure nearest the edge had opened his arms wide and grinned, "Well… Did you miss me?"

The second figure – who stood further away in the center of the square rooftop-, seemed resigned. They stood still, silent.

"Oh dear, I was hoping for a much better reaction than silence."

"Silence suits you. Silence is an empty void in which nothing can be changed; much like my disgust in your reappearance." The second figure snarled.

"So you did miss me. But what are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to finish what you failed to do two years ago."

"Aw, are you going to pull out a little toy gun and shoot me?" The figure mocked.

"On the contrary," The figure paused and breathed in deeply before continuing. "Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned hero. You need me or you are nothing."

The first figure's eyes slashed in surprise and the second figure lunged at them. They were suddenly locked together in a ferocious struggle, a struggle that finished when the edge was behind them. And then they were falling, falling.

The second figure closed his eyes and waited. He braced himself.

And then his mind palace shattered…

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William Sherlock Scott Holmes was lying on the cold pavement of London once more. But this time James Moriarty was lying beside him. Both unmoving. Both cold. Both never again making a return.

John Hamish Watson had seen everything and was powerless in stopping it. Once they had collided with the cold, harsh ground time slowed to a standstill.

Onlookers turned, shock and horror written on their faces. They pointed and gasped but only Watson moved.

Only Watson knelt beside the broken body of the greatest man that had ever lived.

"No… No. You can't! You can't be dead! It has to be a trick! Sherlock Holmes you bastard, tell me it's a trick right now!" He screamed.

But there came no response. And he knew deep down, that this was no trick. That he really was gone. That never again would Sherlock Holmes walk the earth. Never again would they see each other's smiling faces.

"I loved you…" John whispered, tears flowing down his face.

And then the ambulances came. And then they were gone…

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**So yep, part one of two. Two coming soon. Please leave a review and be honest when telling me what you think! Alright then, later!**


	2. Chapter 2- The Funeral

**Never Again **

**Chapter 2- The Funeral**

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**So here's chapter 2. It's a little later than i thought and hoped it would be. (Or a lot later) But hey at least it's here! **

**Please leave a review at the end! (you guys probably hear this a lot!)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters (sniffle)**

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_Rain… Typical England._ John Watson stood critically in front of the mirror in his home. His empty home. His wife had left. She did not want to pick up her husband's broken pieces once again. She had taken her things and left the day after. Never again would he see her. Or his unborn child.

Today however, would be different than the days he had spent heartbroken and shattered over his death. In those days he had been sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling, absorbed in his own mind palace. The mind palace that was filled with memories of only him and Sherlock.

John sighed. No mental exercise could prepare him for the events that were going to take place and he knew that.

He looked in the mirror critically. A man that was clean, shaven, with no blood shot eyes and wearing a sharp suit a tie stared back at him. He wanted to look his best and had even shaved for Sherlock Holmes. After all, it was his funeral and John would be giving the eulogy.

There was a downside though. He looked over at his walking stick, took it, and limped down the stairs to the black limousine waiting outside the block. Mrs. Hudson gave him a comforting smile as well as a sympathetic look but it did not console him.

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Two black horses had pulled a carriage containing a neatly decorated coffin to the church where it now lay on the altar. The church itself was just an ordinary church and the only thing in the church that was extraordinary where the people there. John looked around at the start and made a note of the people there: Greg Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft Holmes, Molly Hooper, Bill Wiggins, Irene Adler, Sebastian Wilkes, Anthea, Janine, Lady Elizabeth Smallwood and lots of other people whose names kept slipping his mind.

He sat on the very first pew at the front, a few meters away from the coffin. A few meters away from Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes was been buried where his fake grave was which now made it his real one. And his true final resting place.

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It was now the funeral party and it had been decided that once everyone had sat down, John would stand up at the front and give the eulogy.

But he couldn't concentrate on his lines as Lestrade had just told him that Moriarty's body had disappeared shortly after the forensics had finished with him and Sherlock. They had both been pronounced dead and real so never again would either of them see the light of day. John's last hope, that it had all been a ruse, had been extinguished.

Mycroft- who had been the one who had persuaded John to come- gave him the signal that it was time for the eulogy.

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John's P.O.V

I took a deep breath, stood up, and limped my way to the front of the crowd where I stopped and waited for silence. When it came I cleared my throat and began. All eyes were on me.

"Good evening everyone. Thank you for coming." I croaked. "Sherlock Holmes was an incredible man though I'm sure some of you might like to use other words. I always described him as quirky." Some laughter arose. I took another deep breath. "I have known him for a few years and some of you have known him even longer while some of you may wish you hadn't." A few chuckles and eyes darted to several people seated around the room. "We had a few ups and downs along the way but one thing remained for certain; we solved crimes, I blogged about it, and he forgot his pants." A bit more laughter arose, and a few more sad smiles.

I looked up before saying my final part. "And I always valued his life over my own." _I would have given anything to switch places with him that day…_ I thought to myself quietly.

With that my eulogy was over and I hadn't noticed that tears were streaming down my face. It was a short eulogy. But I couldn't bear to say anymore. It hurt. It hurt to know that never again would I see his smiling, crafty, mischievous face.

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That was 50 long years ago but I remember every second of it as if it were yesterday. I now spend my days in a retirement home in the countryside.

I smiled to myself. I always finished reminiscing with the will he had left behind. It was sad at first with the official stuff at the top. But at the bottom had been a personal message directed at me. I smiled how Mycroft had ordered the bottom of the will to be cut off so I could keep it. It now rests it my pocket, always with me. I know it word for word. It says:

_"John. I give you my sincerest apologies. I should have told you about what I was going to do. But I knew you would object. Of course there were other ways to take care of Jim Moriarty but my life had reached a dead end for a while and there was nothing I could do. The one person I loved was married to someone else and was on their way to starting a family. I never loved anyone else as much as I loved them. Whenever I saw them my heart skipped a beat and I was always momentarily speechless. (I always covered that up by looking like I was lost in thought.) I had loved them for years and years and that time we were apart for a year due to… circumstances, I felt that my heart had been ripped out. That person was you, John. I loved you. No… I still love you. And I will do everything I can to wait for you in the afterlife. Even if it means raising hell itself, I will be there for you. I love you John."_

_Sherlock _

I love you too Sherlock Holmes. And sooner or later, I will once again meet you.

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**So that's it for this chapter. I will be adding one more little one later on tonight and if not tonight then definitely tomorrow! **

**Once again, please leave a review and constructive criticism is always appreciated! :D (unless it's a page long rant about the damned oxford comma *cough* BETH *cough*)**


	3. Chapter 3- The Reunion

**Never Again**

**Chapter 3-The Reunion**

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**So this is it. The final chappie. Please leave a review at the end!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Sherlock. (dang)**

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Normal P.O.V

It had been three years since John Watson had been diagnosed with a brain tumour. It couldn't be cured and it couldn't be told when it would kill him, it just would.

So now there was another funeral, for the partner of the deceased detective. But there had been a reunion unbeknownst to the funeral-goers.

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John Watson had just arrived in the afterlife and stood there waiting patiently, was Sherlock Holmes.

"You took your time! Look at you!" Sherlock looked him up and down.

"Not too bad yourself." John acknowledged.

Sherlock laughed, ran up to him and they embraced. One had a slightly squished nose and the other had grey hair and a beard.

But that didn't matter. They were together now, once again and forever.

"I love you." They both whispered.

Then hand-in hand, one limping and the other supporting, they ventured off into the afterlife. Inseparable once more.

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**So that's it! What did ya think! (One down one to go for me fanfiction wise!)**

**Once again, please leave a review as i would really appreciate it! (There's just something good about getting an email saying some nice person's taken the time to review your fanfiction. I have no idea why. :) )**

**Thanks for reading this! Au revoir!** :D


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